The Calm After the Storm

If I allow the tidal wave of emotions stored inside to rise and release, then something surprisingly calm comes after. I am amazed at how many times I need to relearn this same lesson, as if each time were the first. I trust there is wisdom in this process unfolding, and the leap into this kind of emotional expression is necessary for balance. Yet each time as I go towards that thing that is calling my attention, it’s so uncomfortable, simply because feeling pain is hard. It’s hard to be present to it, see it, feel it, and release it. But if I don’t release it, this bubbling anxiety lives just underneath the surface of my skin, like a mild earthquake, shaking my bones ever so slightly. I can feel its tremors, its yearning to be expressed with presence and kindness. I remember that I’m not meant to be a living expression of repressed emotions. I am mostly water, and when I act like a blocked dam, I feel damned.

It takes great courage to allow the ugly and painful experiences to come through. I’ve read about this countless times; I encourage others to try it on, but doing it when I most need it, honestly is no easy task. But when I greet myself with open arms, the pain eventually transmutes into equanimity. Well, at least I’d like to think its equanimity. Whatever it is or isn’t doesn’t really matter. What matters is finding the places inside that can take you there.

It is possible…